Memory
by labradorite
Summary: Haruhi could recall perfectly the first time she saw him, the first time she touched him, the first time she tasted him...One-Shot, KyoxHaru


**Another one-shot based around the five senses. Enjoy!

* * *

**Haruhi remembered the first time she saw him.

It was not, as most thought, that unfortunate day with that damn vase when she was mistaken for a gay male student.

No, it was actually a few weeks before that fateful day; in fact, it was a warm Monday morning in one of the many courtyards that were sprinkled around the massive school. She was sitting on a bench, absent-mindedly twisting her finger through the intricately carved stone, when a flash off of someone's glasses caught her attention.

_Him._

Now, Haruhi may have been a hopelessly naïve freshman who couldn't even name the chairman of the school let alone pick her teacher out of a crowd, but she knew _him._

Everybody did, to be honest. She saw the awe in their eyes and the fear that scarred their voices when they spoke his name; there was a hush that immediately washed over the crowd if anyone mentioned him. She could see the respect radiating off of her peers when they took in the third son of the most powerful family in all of Japan.

So, there she was sitting on that bench, basking in the morning sun and trying to motivate herself to move and get out her books, when she looked up to see herself in very close proximity to the very boy she was thinking about. She took in his lithe form, decked to the nines in light blue and black, and couldn't help but drop her "gender-doesn't-matter" façade and admire the second-year appreciatively. His dark hair, his round lips, his perfectly straight nose…his startling dark eyes.

Though she knew perfectly well who she was admiring, this was the first time Haruhi had actually seen the young man who had occupied her mind since she started at this selective school. She was surprised by the absolute authority with which he carried himself and, though she knew of his powerful family, she was taken aback at how he was so mature…and intellectual…and _sexy…_

* * *

Haruhi remembered the first time she heard him.

This, too, was before she crossed into the alternate universe that was the Third Music Room. A few weeks after her first encounter with the dark-haired enigma she was sitting quietly in the library, minding her own business, when she heard the soft scrape of a chair on carpet from behind her. Somehow, without even having to turn around, she knew it was him. She felt her breath catch and her heart speed up at the mere _thought _that he was behind her. She heard a soft sigh, no doubt let out from his angelic lips, and closed her eyes at the sound.

Struggling to focus her thoughts back to the various books sprawled out in front of her, she heard him sigh again and the sound of fingers tapping rapidly over computer keys accompanied the sound. She counted his breaths, trying to picture the shape his lips must have formed, pursed slightly at the laptop screen or formed into a tight line at some frustration at a confusion of numbers. Haruhi had been dreaming about this stranger way more than she wanted to admit. She could barely focus in class, let alone accomplish the perfection she expected of herself. She felt silly and nauseatingly _girlish _at the idea of lusting after some playboy.

Realizing her absolute and slightly ridiculous preoccupation with a complete stranger, Haruhi wanted to scold herself. Who was this…this…this _boy_ to take her away from her studies? She was at this absurd school to get an education and become a lawyer, not fawn over spoiled pretty-boys! She had half a mind to turn around and give him a piece of her mind for distracting her like this when…

"Hey," a voice came from behind her and she nearly fell out of her chair. She hadn't heard the new person approach; she had been too engrossed in chastising herself. "It's nearly four, are you coming?"

Suddenly, Haruhi couldn't breathe.

The anticipation was building.

She felt her breaths coming in gulps.

"Yes," _he_ said.

That simple word nearly killed her. The very _thought _of hearing his voice made chills run down her spine, but the actual sound…_Oh. My. God. _

His voice was _perfect. _The deep timbre rumbled from her toes through her fingers, leaving a tingling residue in her limbs. The perfect cadence and intonation of the elementary word made her insides melt into a big Haruhi-puddle of girlish desire. What if she never heard that voice again? What would she do? Was there a way she could get him to speak again? What if—

The sound of the chair shifting once more broke her out of her frantic thoughts, and she heard his footsteps slowly decrescendo and echo down the vast hallways as he walked away.

This boy was going to be her undoing.

* * *

Haruhi remembered the first time she smelled him.

Now, several weeks later, she was a member of the Host Club at Ouran Academy, posing a male and trying desperately not to strangle a few red heads and a blonde every time she saw them. On top of all that drama she was completely swamped in her classes, the list of chores to do at home was growing longer by the second and she was trying to arrange a part-time job on top of all _that…_but she couldn't focus on any of it.

Because she wasn't getting any sleep due to _someone _who kept her up at night. _Someone's _face was practically glue to the inside of her eyelids and that _someone _was insanely exasperatingly ridiculously frustratingly ALWAYS ON HER MIND.

She was at her wits end.

It was her official second day as the Host Club's _dog_ (she hissed at the word) and her new routine had turned into sighing deeply and trying not to kill Tamaki-senpai. She was in the enormous Third Music Room, surrounded by giggling customers in a truly unfortunate pale yellow and watching in wonder at the complete p_ointlessness_ of it all, when it happened.

She had actually spoken to him by this time (and boy, was _that _an experience that kept her up at night) and was still completely baffled by him, barely able to form coherent sentences let alone impress him enough that he would grant her a second glance. Today, though, was the closest she had ever been to him.

He, as a general rule, kept his physical distance from the rest of the Hosts. While Tamaki, Hikaru and Kaoru had absolutely no problem with getting painfully and uncomfortably close and Hani-senpai enjoyed enthusiastic hugs, _he _enjoyed his space. It was nothing personal, Haruhi assumed, just a part of his personality that dodged physical contact or comfort from something that didn't have a price tag.

So, one can imagine her surprise when, out of nowhere, she felt him close behind her. She had first noticed his appearance from afar, and then memorized every tone of his voice quickly after, but she was completely taken aback by his _scent. _

It was heaven. If God existed, he probably smelled like this. The raw masculinity was sensual enough but the added scent of cinnamon and citrus radiating off of his pale skin was enough to force her into hyperventilation. She struggled to catch her breath as quietly as possible while inhaling deeply through her petit nose to try and absorb the unique and arousing scent that was the perfect personification of the young man she so idolized.

For crying out loud, she hadn't even spoken to him yet and she already needed to escape to try and compose herself before attempting to have a conversation.

She didn't know how she was going to handle this.

* * *

Haruhi remembered the first time she touched him.

By this time she was a full-blown Host, trying her best to please her customers and still struggling to conceal her gender while battling the biggest challenge of all…

Operation "make sure he doesn't know I'm obsessed with him."

It was an ongoing struggle.

Needless to say, Haruhi's infatuation with the young host had developed to a full-scale head-over-heels crush. And it was growing quickly. It was hard enough to feign casual indifference in the presence a person she was so obsessed with and the addition of trips to the beach and seeing him clad in only a bathing suit…or a police uniform...or a tux…

The very sight of him had been enough to keep her up at night. The sound of his low voice had been enough to make her shiver. The scent wafting through her nose had been enough to make her knees weak. And the very _idea _of his soft skin coming into contact with hers…

It was going to be a very long day.

It was a rare instant in the Third Music Room for it to be moderately quiet, and this was one of those times; so, Haruhi was trying to steal a moment away from her duties and catch up on a bit of homework before the next round of customers came into the hectic citadel. Sitting in an intricately carved chair that probably cost more than a month's rent, she felt him again.

It had been a long time since he was this close, and she was both irritated and thrilled about it. On the one hand, she was trying desperately to forget her crush on the mysterious junior but on the other…

Oh, who was she kidding?

But anyway, she felt him closing in behind her and was trying with all of her might to ignore the churning feeling in the pit of her stomach and absorb what was on the page in front of her, but she just couldn't. The perfectly arousing scent of him was circling around her, messing with her mind, and she waited with bated breath to hear the low tenor of his voice call out her name (something she fantasized about every single day). Instead of speaking, like she had expected, he did something completely out of the ordinary.

He _touched _her.

He actually physically put his hand (_oh, the perfection of his hand!_) on her shoulder, the light weight of it seeming to have a magnetic pull on her heart. Slowly, she turned her head to look at the unblemished hand resting so close to her mouth.

She was going to faint. His skin was just as flawless and soft as she had imagined, maybe even better. The warmth of his body spread through her small body and she shivered in pleasure, savoring the short moment and clinging to it like droplets of water on a rose petal. She could feel the tiny ridges and crevices across his square hand, watched as the muscles tightened as he moved his long fingers. Not only was it the first time she actually touched him, but it was the first time one of his rare genuine smiles was aimed at her. She felt her face heat up in both satisfaction and embarrassment and looked away, unable to hide the desire in her eyes.

She couldn't keep this up for much longer.

* * *

Haruhi remembered the first time she tasted him.

Finally, after nearly a year of hunger and longing, she got what she wanted. She watched as his thoughtful onyx eyes darkened with desire for her (_for her!_) and she could barely breathe as he walked towards her, a predator and his prey.

It was months after the infamous beach accident, though she nearly fainted every time she thought of that moment. No, this time they were alone in the back room of the Third Music Room, getting ready for a cosplay. She had just shrugged off her blue blazer in preparation to slip on a soldier's uniform when she saw him coming towards her.

He walked slowly, but with purpose, like he had practiced this move many times before. And he approached her, that hunger lingering in his gaze, and suddenly she was pressed against the wall, his hands on either side of her head and his face inches from hers. His eyes were dark with longing and his mouth opened slightly, his cool breath on her face. She could barely breathe; he was everywhere and yet he wasn't close enough. She tilted her head up to meet his, her assurance of consent, and closed her eyes slowly, waiting.

He moved unhurriedly, with practiced patience and infuriating leisure. His angelic lips hesitated just a hairs width away from hers, his breathing surprisingly calm, and then he moved forward that tiny bit to meet her lips with his own.

They fit perfectly together, like old lovers, though they had barely known each other a year. He parted his lips slightly, an invitation, and she responded enthusiastically, slipping her tongue gently to meet his. The taste was as unique as his scent, and his voice, she couldn't even begin to describe it. Spice mixed with mint and some other flavor she couldn't place; he tasted fantastic, like everything she had imagined and more. She moved her lips cautiously with his, tentative and soft.

And all too soon, it was over. He let out a little sigh and she opened her eyes to meet his burning stare, trying to wrap her mind around what had just happened.

"Haruhi," his voice came out throaty, like he was struggling to form words.

"Kyouya," she murmured, slipping her arms around his neck and holding him to her possessively.

"Let's go," he pressed his lips to hers one more time before pulling her away from the wall and grasping her hand with his.

Yeah, taste was probably her favorite.

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**A/N: Hope you enjoyed, drop me a review!!! :)**


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